“Hold on,” he said.
She wrapped her arms around his waist.The reaction was instant and overwhelming.He was heat and muscle and restraint under her palms, every inch of him coiled tight like he was holding something dangerous back.
Leather creaked softly beneath her fingers.For one suspended heartbeat, her breath stuttered, her body forgetting how to exist anywhere else.Then the engine roared.
The sound tore through the morning like a challenge.The bike surged forward and the world snapped loose, colors smearing into motion as they shot down the street.Wind ripped past her face, tugging strands of hair free, stealing the breath right out of her lungs.Her fear burned off in seconds, replaced by something wild and electric.
She laughed, the sound ripped from her without permission.The town rushed at them and fell away again, traffic lights flashing past, pavement humming beneath the tires.She leaned into him instinctively as he maneuvered through the streets with lethal grace, trusting his hands, his balance, his control without thinking twice.
Every shift of his body communicated intent, and every turn felt deliberate and dangerous and perfect.For the first time since this nightmare had started, she felt alive instead of hunted.By the time Mercy General came into view, her heart was pounding hard enough to bruise her ribs.It wasn’t from fear but from exhilaration and from Reaper.
He pulled in near the entrance and cut the engine.The sudden silence rang in her ears.As she climbed off, her legs trembled slightly, adrenaline still buzzing through her veins.
Reaper caught her at the waist, his hold steady and firm.His possessive hold grounded her, his thumbs pressing just enough to remind her she was upright, real, and breathing.
“You okay?”he asked.
She nodded, breathless, a little dazed.“Yeah.”
Inside, the hospital swallowed them whole.The familiar antiseptic smell hit her immediately, monitors chiming, voices overlapping.It should have felt safe.Instead, the unease returned like a shadow slipping back into place.
Reaper stayed close, maybe a little too near to be casual.He rested his hand at the small of her back, not pushing, not restraining.He was guiding her, claiming space around her without asking permission.
They rounded the corner near the ER desk and almost collided with a man in a tailored jacket that didn’t belong in a hospital.He moved with the easy confidence of someone who never waited his turn.His shoes seemed too expensive for linoleum floors, and his posture was too relaxed.
The man looked up.Recognition struck instantly when they landed on Reaper.He tightened his jaw, a muscle jumping once beneath his skin.
“Vega,” he said quietly, voice smooth but edged.“Didn’t expect to see you here, and not with her.”
Reaper didn’t step back or shift aside.He moved closer instead, flattening his hand against Elena’s back.The contact was deliberate and possessive.He gripped her closer, claiming space, claiming her, a silent warning written in flesh and pressure.
“Cruz.She’s under my protection,” Reaper said.His tone left no room for negotiation.
Cruz slid his gaze to Elena then.Elena avoided a shiver.She felt herself catalogued in a single breath, reduced to value and leverage, a thing that could be used.Cold prickled along her spine.
Then Cruz looked at Reaper again.
“Didn’t know she mattered,” Cruz said, almost lightly.
Reaper held his stare, unblinking.“She does now.”
He said nothing more, and he didn’t need to.The silence stretched, heavy and taut as a wire pulled too tight.Nurses moved around them, but they weren’t oblivious.A few slowed.They lingered a second too long, their gazes flicking between Reaper’s cut, the cartel man’s retreating back, and Elena caught in the middle.
She could already imagine the questions later, the lowered voices at the nurses’ station, the curious looks that would follow her through the shift.Elena couldn’t deal with that—heck, shewouldn’t.She’d bury herself in work instead.That was why she was here, to help people.
Finally, Cruz inclined his head.“Understood.This changes things,” he said.
What the hell was that all about?Elena couldn’t ask Reaper that question now.She had work to do.Cruz finally walked away, much to her relief.He seemed wary of Reaper, respected him a little even.
Elena exhaled shakily, her knees weak with delayed fear.Reaper leaned down, his mouth close to her ear, voice low and steady.
“You’re safe,” he said.
After everything Elena had been through the last twenty-four hours, she wasn’t sure she believed that yet.
